Surprise, Surprise
by WritePassion
Summary: Who told Virgil about Maddie's death? No one, apparently, and Virgil finds out the hard way.


**Surprise, Surprise**

By WritePassion

Virgil Watkins' day started out on a sweet note with the sun shining, a balmy breeze on the ocean, and a full tank of gas in his boat. He had more than enough to get him to Miami from where he'd taken up his retirement in the Bahamas, and he hoped that when he arrived he would find Madeline. He hadn't heard from her in awhile, and the last time he tried calling her, the recording said the number was disconnected.

Although it sent a weird prickling up his spine, Virgil wasn't about to let that one thing make him think the worst. People changed numbers all the time. Maybe Madeline got rid of her landline and forgot to tell him. As soon as he set foot on shore, he would go to her house and surprise her. He would have called Sam and asked for a pick up at the marina, but he was so excited to see Madeline that he took a taxi. He didn't want anyone to ruin the surprise.

The yellow cab stopped at the corner and the driver gazed at him. "Mister, are you sure this is where you wanted to go? There's nothin' here. If it weren't for the GPS, I woulda had no idea where the address was."

Virgil gaped at the empty lot where Madeline's house once stood. "There's got to be some mistake. This can't be."

"You wanna go somewhere else, man?" The younger man's hand hung over the seat back. "If not, it's ten fifty."

"Ten... fifty? From the marina? That's highway robbery, Son!" Virgil grumbled and dug into his pocket for a ten and a five. He slapped it into the man's hand and said, "Keep the change." He was too shell-shocked to care about change at a time like this.

Getting out of the car, Virgil's eyes remained plastered to the lot. Not even the stone columns and concrete steps were left behind. He scanned the yard, and as he neared where the foundation used to be, he noted the scorched sidewalk that once led to the porch stopped at the exposed and leveled dirt. Little shoots of emerald green grass poked up through it, and he crouched to fan them. The house had been gone for several months if the growth was any indication. An emptiness swelled in his chest as Virgil's head swiveled around, looking for an answer.

Her name raced up from his lungs to his throat, and he almost cried out for her, but he restrained himself. The neighbors would think he was crazy. His eyes locked onto the house across the street, and he spied a portly, elderly woman peering at him through the open blinds. He would have grinned and waved, but he was in no mood for levity until he was by Madeline's side. Virgil tore away his gaze and concentrated on looking for a clue. This couldn't have been on purpose. Madeline wouldn't just tear down her house, and if she did, by now she would have had a new one started.

That thought made Virgil pause as the sandy ground slipped through his fingers. How well did he really know Madeline? Her son was a spy. God only knows what she'd gotten herself into! The last time they spoke, she said that Michael, Sam, Fiona and Jesse were all in deep trouble and she couldn't talk about it. Over the past few years she'd become wise about such things. She also seemed stronger emotionally than when they first met. He loved that, and he loved her. He never should have stayed away for so long, but he respected Michael and his wishes.

It was the desire to rebel against those wishes that led him to Miami and wanting to surprise the woman who captured his heart. But she was gone, and he had no idea where to find her. He scanned the ground one more time and shook his head. Something happened, and Madeline must have moved away.

Virgil didn't know how long he'd been standing there. He heard tires on sand in the gutter as a car pulled to a stop at the curb. No doubt the old lady called the cops to report him, and now they were investigating. He straightened, and with hands on hips he turned to the sound of feet brushing the grass.

"Sam." He gaped at his friend.

Sam Axe stared at Virgil. "Virg, you're here. What... what brought you to Miami?"

Virgil's mouth twitched into a smile, while his eyes studied Sam's sober expression. "I came to see Madeline. I haven't seen her in awhile, and I thought maybe by now Michael would have gotten over his aversion to me datin' his Momma."

The sadness in Sam's eyes deepened and lines creased his face as he fought to speak. "Virgil." He swallowed and tried again. "I'm sorry, pal. She's gone."

"Gone. Yeah, I kinda figured that out with the house missing. Where the hell did she go?"

Sam blinked away the tears. He wasn't used to letting his emotions hang out there for his former mentor to see, but he couldn't help it. "You don't understand. She's... she's dead. Maddie is dead, Virgil."

"No. That's a really rotten trick to play on a body, Sam." His frown twitched into a sick smile and back to display the betrayal he felt. "I can't believe you'd say that."

"But it's true, Virg." Sam took a step closer. Virgil was frozen to the spot, so he took another step until he could touch his elbow. "I... am so sorry. She died saving us all. She was a hero."

Tears turned the scene before him into a sun-dappled blur while his mind struggled to comprehend. "Why? How did this happen?" He had a lot more questions, but he couldn't give them voice. Virgil felt his grip on self-control slipping away as sure as his knees began to buckle.

Sam reached out with both hands and grasped him, holding Virgil and keeping him upright. "Come on, Virgil. Let's go," Sam spoke with a soft voice laced with grief. "Let's grab a beer, and I'll tell you the story."

"I don't want a story. I want the truth," Virgil blubbered as he wrested himself away from Sam's grip. He hadn't cried like that since he was a kid.

"I guarantee you're going to be so proud of Maddie after I'm finished."

Virgil, wrapped in his mind-numbing grief, wasn't aware of how he got into Sam's car, or how he wound up in a dimly lit bar with Sam sitting across from him. He couldn't even tell if it was a nice place. It didn't matter. Madeline was dead. His love was gone, and he had nothing to hold onto, nothing to grasp in order to make sense of everything. Not even Sam's portrayal of Madeline's last days could give him comfort.

"You can stay at the hotel while you're in town. Elsa won't mind," Sam said as if he were giving Virgil a consolation prize. "Maybe you'd like to stay awhile and help me and Jesse. We're thinking of starting up an agency to help people, just like Mike, Fi, and I used to do."

"Like you helped me with the boat?" He turned bleary, bloodshot, grief-stained eyes on Sam.

"Yeah, just like that, only with less trouble with the cops. Hopefully." Sam tried to smile. "We could always use a third man."

"Michael shoulda kept doin' good like that instead of pursuing that damn burn notice," Virgil ground out as he etched a shallow line into the table surface with a discarded bottle cap. "It's because of him that his Momma's dead." He turned to Sam, anger hitting him like a freight train. "Where is that cowardly son of a..."

"Shhh, Virgil." Sam held onto his friend's upper arm and wouldn't let go until Virgil calmed. Under the din around them, he continued when Virgil appeared willing to listen. "Mike is, well, officially, he's dead. Unofficially, he's left the country. But I don't know where he is, and it's gonna stay that way until he thinks it's safe to poke his head out of his hiding place."

"I was right. He's a coward."

Sam had enough. He glared at Virgil. "Mike and Fi are taking care of Maddie's grandson, Mike's nephew, Charlie. The kid's Mom had been declared unfit and his Dad is dead, so they took him with them." He patted Virgil's arm and returned his hand to his beer. "He'll be safe with them. I'd bet my life on that."

"Despite everything, how can you still be loyal to Michael?" Virgil sucked on his beer and drained it. "How?

"Yeah, he screwed up a lot, but it reminds me of when I did just as bad if not worse, and someone I know gave me a second chance." Sam's eyes locked on Virgil's with such intensity, it felt like a laser burning into his brain. "You didn't give up on me, Virg. Would you really expect me to do that to Mikey? That would be like slapping you in the face for what you did for me."

Virgil sat in silence, using the time to suck half of the fresh beer that the waitress set before him. "Okay, you've got a point. But that still doesn't... it doesn't help the pain." He poked a finger into his chest. "Right here, Sammy, there's an empty hole. How am I ever gonna survive? I shouldn't have waited so long to come see Madeline. Now I have to live the rest of my life regretting that. I could have taken her away, her and Charlie, and we could have been happy in the Bahamas."

Sighing, Sam dropped his chin and stared at the table for a few moments before he met Virgil's desperate gaze. "I'm sorry. I wish I could turn back time and make that happen, but I can't. We're all hurting. I think you need to stay here and work it out with us." Sam pushed away his beer bottle. "Come on, let's go to the hotel. I got you a nice room, the most comfortable beds in town are in Elsa's hotel. You'll sleep like a baby."

"Is there a mini-bar?"

"Yeah, but tonight, it's off limits. You've had more than enough." Sam pointed to the bottle that Virgil drained. "You're like three up on me, pal. Good thing I restrained myself so I can drive."

True to his word, Sam had the mini-bar emptied of every bottle of liquor available, so when he left Virgil alone for the night, orange juice, tonic water, and a can of cola were the only things inside. He should have been angry, but deep down he was glad that Sam knew him so well. They'd fought together side by side for many years, and Sam had seen him in some of his darkest moments, and vice versa. When the pain really hit home, Virgil often tried to bury it in booze. After what Madeline had told him about her husband, he'd cleaned up his act. She would be ashamed of him now if she could see him trying to drown his sorrows. Sam was doing him a favor, saving him from himself. For that he thanked him and dressed for bed.

In the morning, Madeline would still be dead. He would ache for her loss and wonder how to make it through the day. But he had a safety net in Sam. Together they would lean on each other and fill their days with worthwhile cases. If Madeline was really a hero like Sam said, the best way to honor her memory was to help people. It's what she would have wanted. Maybe in the process, he could learn to use his pain and turn it into something good.

Now, wouldn't that be a surprise?


End file.
